As I reevaluated my needs and desires after that significant first solo date, I realized my distinct turn in perspective. At one point having sex with multiple men in one night was the ultimate thrill. The orgies were mind blowing, consuming my thoughts for days after. The variety, the newness, the exhibitionism. It was raw and exhilarating. I had never felt that sort of freedom. It was just plain FUN!
Now, nearly three years after our first full swap, it all seems repetitive and trivial. I found myself asking why I continued to have sex with people I didn’t care about. Our lifestyle friends had become our best friends, most of our vanilla friends had distanced. The frequent parties and events were an important part of our lives. It wasn’t as simple as stopping cold turkey. We valued the socialization (and still do). Swingers make phenomenal company. There certainly are instances, with the right amount of chemistry and alcohol, when an emotionless fuck is entertaining. We’ve kept our short list of favorites close. But generally, it’s lost its draw. The idea of getting dolled up for a themed party, scoping out potential fuck buddies, making small talk, being witty, flirty and sometimes fake, asking and answering the same boring questions proposed in all swinger introductions seems like a chore. The random sex isn’t rewarding. It feels shallow and unsatisfying.
I want more. I want to cuddle and have deep conversations about life and love. Take me somewhere I’ve never been, let’s share those experiences. Tell me about your childhood, your hobbies, your highest highs and lowest lows. What makes you tick? Tell me about your day and care about mine. Let’s have dinner in, in our pajamas, and be silly. Laugh until I pee a little. Become comfortable enough to be me, inside and out, no makeup or mental effort. Building trust, sharing secrets. Intimacy, closeness. I want butterflies. I want depth. I want love.
It’s worth stating that up until this change of paths, I had only been in love with one man in my lifetime. My husband entered my life at 17 and contributed massively to shaping my life into the beautiful thing it is. No one ever forgets their first love. I get to fall asleep next to mine nightly. He’s shared in every single day of my adult life. Through it all, he has never left my side. He’s never stopped adoring and cherishing me. I feel his love constantly. He is exactly what I need. I would chose him and do it all again. I am an incredibly lucky woman. He had my heart first and he’ll have it last. Our love is strong, but we are also individuals whose needs differ. I’m a dreamer, a lover of love, a free spirit with wild desires. My world revolves around relationships and human connection. I feel very much alive when surrounded by adventure and newness.
A month after that date, we took our first lifestyle vacation. A week long swinger’s cruise. What a week it was. We can’t imagine taking any other type of adult vacation now that we’ve experienced the best. Perhaps that week left such a lasting impression because of the fantastic people we encountered. I made friends I envision being in my life for the long haul.
The first night of the cruise I met a man, who has since, turned my world upside down and back up again. I can literally feel the tingling of blood and adrenaline rushing through every inch of my body as I write this. Let me start at the beginning. We were in the disco, surrounded by hot bodies, chatting with old friends, mingling with new ones. A tall, dark haired handsome man caught my eye. I initiated a flirty introduction and was taken immediately with his wit, humor, and openness. His perfect teeth, genuine smile, easy laugh. And those dark eyes. I could definitely get lost in those. He mentioned his ability to make women squirt, which felt like a panty dropping invitation to me. I grabbed his hand and led him to a nearby couch, pulling him down on top of me. His lips and tongue met mine with intensity. My leather skirt allowed easy access for him to slide my panties to the side. His fingers found my little wet hole and he worked two in. I moaned loudly with pure raw pleasure as I came on his fingers pressing fast, hard and deeply against my sweet spot. He hadn’t exaggerated his squirt inducing talent. He left me (and the couch) a wet hot mess. We laid there another minute kissing and staring at each other as my breathing returned to normal. We were in a room with hundreds of people, music pounding in our ears, but at that moment I only felt the existence of him and me. I had known him for a whopping ten minutes. It was the sort of introduction you never forget. My version of perfect.
–I realize now that this true story can’t possibly be described adequately in three sections. I’ve only began to skim the surface. The journey continues as we speak, so I will share what I can, when I can, without defining an end point to this “article.” Life isn’t about the destination anyway, and this is no different.